Re-watching Buffy for the hundredth time, will let Oz know. Envision me pleading with the television as my neighbors put in their earplugs (the neighbors’ earplugs are always at hand for when I do my Shakira impression).

Are we making anagrams with Nick Young’s name? Let me try:

Are Ciara and Russell Wilson still practicing abstinence pre-marriage? Because I might be inclined to get hitched next to the dumpsters out back the 7-11 if I was on my period and ragingly horny (given these circumstances, I might also nip into the 7-11 for a quick donut or six before saying “LET’S DO THIS”). Good for…

This week I had two firsts:

My greatest evacuation horror story: full-face zit cream mask, no shoes, only wearing a t-shirt in Canadian winter. And somehow I managed to get a pair of extra-granny period undies strapped to my ankle. This was when my dorm fire alarm went off in my undergrad (I was 18). I ended up running behind the dorm and…

My Women’s Studies degree made me catch a big case of THE GAYS. It has been tough, living with THE GAYS. But unfortunately the history course I wanted to take was full and I ended up majoring in GAY NOW CUZ FEMINISM. Phew, I’m glad Toomey gets me.

What is Heidi Klum sitting next to? It looks like a weird punishment box.

Quick sidebar: when did “savage” become a thing? It makes me... uncomfortable. I can’t hear it without wincing. Ongoing colonial legacies are real. That’s my grumpy sidebar for the evening. Get off my lawn and other such grumblings.

Right?! I was thinking “could I possibly paint my kitchen to look like white bricks?” but then I ate another pack of Rolos and thought “NAHHHH. WHITE WILL ONLY EMPHASIZE THE CHOCOLATE STAINS”.

Give Ariel a call - I’m sure she can draft something dismiss-y for you to give to Ben!

Even in movies he’s better when he’s silently brooding. Because then he opens up his maw and all I can hear is “alright alright alright, BONGOS!”. Did I just date myself?

Okay, but we mean circus like Britney Spears’ “Circus”, right? Because I am dancing around in a cage with flying snakes and a whip (defs not the Minority Whip) because SOMETHING IS HAPPENING! Thank you, Dems! I’ll give you a Piece of Me because I’m feeling Lucky.

I know you meant to say that Moore and Adams’ house was ‘stocked with Perrier’... but Perrior just sounds like a hilarious knock-off brand.

I thought they were harping on me to take my B vitamins. I GET IT. B26, IS FOR BONES OR SOMETHING, RIGHT? I’VE GOT LOOSE BONES. I’LL GO TO WALGREENS RIGHT NOW.

And nobody is fighting over Broody Rooney (the worst of a mediocre bunch of Maras, methinks).

That’s what I call a mixed bag. Come for the Hoult, leave by the Moby (but slip Lochte some tongue on your way out the door).

I am reeeeallllly feeling some second-hand sorrow over the passing of Anton Yelchin. I’ve loved him since he was a wee thing in Along Came a Spider. He always had a kind, charismatic presence and there was something truly special about him. An ex of mine once said that people who don’t know a person shouldn’t be sad…

I just made myself a heaping bowl of ‘zpach (sorry, I won’t say it like that ever again) this afternoon! And I didn’t even need to look at Chrissy’s cookbook (presumably because it’s under the “stoopid recipes for fart people” section).

Ugh, I love Rob Delaney. His angry tweets about Trump are gooooollld. Also, Catastrophe. And his book was heartbreakingly funny. I just fell into a fangirl pit.

In an effort to get the poutine into my mouth faster, I ditched the fork and started to sip from the bowl like soup. That is why I now have cheese curd in my eyelashes (but refuse to leave the couch to go rinse my eyeballs). #blessed